


Balls

by Darknessalwaysfalls



Series: Transgender and Older Sam [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe - No Powers, FTM Sam, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Identity, Gender or Sex Swap, Hurt Sam, Hurt Sam Winchester, Mild Blood, Misgendering, Older Sibling Sam Winchester, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Protective Dean Winchester, Trans Male Character, Trans Sam Winchester, Transgender, Younger Sibling Dean Winchester, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23307544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darknessalwaysfalls/pseuds/Darknessalwaysfalls
Summary: Transgender and older sibling Sam universe timestamp: Bobby gets a rude awakening by two idjits.
Relationships: Bobby Singer & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Transgender and Older Sam [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/71785
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Balls

**Author's Note:**

> TW: I tagged it but I wanted to reiterate that misgendering occurs pretty heavily throughout this fic. Talk about anatomy and gender by an older generation man occurs as he processes what happens. All these things can be very triggering, for dysphoria and trauma. I tried to portray this situation as the character understands it, which is still offensive as he talks himself through it, and he does not reflect my views.
> 
> As usual, any constructive criticism is welcome and if something is more offensive than it should be, please let me know. Just because I want to be accurate to the character does not mean I want to be gratuitous.
> 
> This is also an old work I had written years ago. I edited it but kept it mostly the same. I hope you'll still like it.

Bobby awoke to the familiar growl of an engine cutting off in front of his porch. He heard from his bedroom the front door slam open and shut and Dean's anxious call. Groaning, he heaved his aching body up and hurried downstairs, hopping into jeans on the way. Dean was in the kitchen searching frantically through the cabinets. Blood stained his hands and the sleeves of his shirt, leaving crimson prints everywhere.

"Under the kitchen sink. Dean, what happened?" Bobby said, grabbing a pot and filling it with water to boil on the stove for the likely needle and string needed.

"Wendigo. Sam got slashed." Dean said, sparing a quick glance at Bobby’s hat-less appearance, as he grabbed a handful of bandages from the medical kit underneath the sink and ran back to the living room. Bobby followed, but froze when he saw Sam stretched out on his old ratty couch. His long fingers clutched the cushions as Dean removed the bloody bundle of clothe on his chest.

"What the hell?" Bobby exclaimed, slightly panicked when he noticed the torn extra apparel on Sam's chest and the obviously not male anatomy it covered. Sam's half-coherent hazel eyes settled on his shocked face. A bruise was forming around a large lump on Sam's forehead. The older brother (no, sister) attempted to sit up as Dean knelt beside him (her?). He pushed Sam to lay back down and glared at Bobby.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Dean asked, his voice low and threatening. Bobby could see his entire body tense and green eyes ablaze like a dog defending his territory. Bobby didn't doubt that if it came down to it, Dean would do anything to protect Sam against Bobby regardless of his status as a surrogate father. Bobby jerked his head no. Dean relaxed enough to turn back to Sam, pressing down on the three bloody gashes on his (her?) lower ribs and giving Sam two pain pills to swallow with a bottle of whiskey. Bobby retreated back to the kitchen and occupied himself getting the stitching stuff ready.

Sam was female? The question ran over and over in his mind. How the hell did that knowledge escape his attention? Bobby prided himself on his skills of observation. This was a major blow to his ego to realize that he missed something that had been right under his nose the entire time. Something about his boys no less! Well, apparently his boy and girl? A flash of anger suddenly shot through him before he could stop himself. Why didn't they ever mention it? Why did Sam never tell him? He felt hurt that they didn't consider him privileged to that information. How would he even explain that all along Sam never had real balls to scratch like he did? Wait, what about periods? How the hell did they hide that? Well, it's not like it ever came up in conversation, he supposed, as he dipped the needles into the boiling water.

Once the needle and thread were properly sterilized, Bobby reluctantly went back into his living room. Dean was still pressing on the deeper cuts but the area had been wiped down and a My Little Pony Band-Aid was plastered across the scape on Sam's cheek. Sam had passed out, long body limp with hair fanned out on the pillow. Now that he was looking, Bobby noticed the lack of bulk to Sam's defined muscles, something he had always thought was just Sam's lanky frame. Bobby glanced once at the tattered sports bra that flattened his (her) chest before he handed Dean the sterilized supplies and awkwardly left when Dean waved him away with narrowed eyes. Occupying himself with tidying his cluttered kitchen counter, Bobby thought about the reasons for their silence. None of the Winchesters had ever indicated that Sam was anything other than male. Not even John, someone Bobby thought to be too closed-minded to even comprehend cross-dressing or any of the decidedly different modes of gender expression. Bobby pondered the possible reasons behind the covering of Sam's sex, taking swings of the whiskey bottle he swiped from the side of the couch. After fifteen minutes or so, Dean finally came into the kitchen. Bobby watched from his seat as the young man washed his bloody hands in the sink before grabbing a beer from the fridge. Popping the cap off with John’s wedding ring, he gulped down half in a manner of seconds. The older man finished off the whiskey himself and let Dean take a break before he asked.

"How's Sam?"

Dean grunted, then shook his head. Bobby watched as the younger man seemed to age ten years.

"He's fine. Passed out. Took a hit to the head so I've gotta wake him up in a bit." Dean's sentences were clipped, tired. He knew the eventual questions were coming.

"What happened exactly? Forget the flare guns?" Bobby raised an eyebrow. Dean glanced at him.

"No. Damn thing's just fast. Sam's flare jammed. And it got a good swipe in before I could pull the trigger." Dean's hand clenched around the bottle, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. Bobby sighed, throwing the whiskey bottle into the recycle bin. Dean obviously felt guilty. He could only imagine what was going through youngest Winchester's mind driving here with Sam bleeding from lacerations after the loss of their father not even a year ago. He got up, wobbled a bit, and grabbed a bottle of beer too, passing Dean on the way. The kid was watching him from the corner of his eye. Humph, paranoid much. Fuck, so was he.

"Well, shit happens." Bobby said gruffly and took a swig from his own bottle after popping off the cap like a normal person using the counter edge. They drank in silence, standing in the kitchen, not looking at each other, gathering their thoughts or waiting for the shoe to drop.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Has Sam always been..." He gestured vaguely.

"Yeah." Dean said, taking a bigger gulp of beer and avoiding Bobby’s eyes.

"You could have told me." Bobby said quietly, the hurt evident in his voice. He rubbed his forehead, realizing he left his hat upstairs.

Dean sighed, "It never came up. Didn't really matter. Sam's still Sam. He's still my brother." Dean looked at Bobby. His green eyes alight with the depth of his devotion to his older sibling. The absolute certainty that the whole thing wasn't wrong in the hard stare. The furrow in his brow giving a glimpse of the fear of rejection from the only father figure left in his life because if Bobby couldn't accept Sam, then he would leave with his older sibling and never come back. It made Bobby feel like a prejudiced old man. Okay, so he might be old but he would never begrudge anyone their right to live how they want. He nodded in understanding, if not of the why but of the concept of acceptability. They drank some more beer in silence. Bobby picked at the label.

"Was this John's doing?" He finally forced himself to ask. He knew John was a bastard at times and constantly pushed the kids to become like soldiers. But this seemed extreme. Yet Bobby could envision it. He could imagine that in his quest to transform his children into the perfect soldiers, he forced his daughter to be his son.

"No!" Dean denied more vehemently than Bobby expected. "Sam was always a guy. He actually fought with John over it multiple times when he was younger and John tried to get him to be a girl.”

"Oh," He let the word trail off. Bobby could see it now. John tolerating Sam's gender change only because it helped his plans. John allowing it simply because it was more convenient. The same when Sam shut down when he was 13. Never prying enough because it helped him shape the child into the soldier he wanted. It was the easier way. The coward's way instead of the right way for the old army sergeant. Bobby was grateful that it was what Sam wanted and not forced. As much as he disliked John's parenting skills and the reasons behind it, he was glad that he allowed Sam this. No wonder Dean was so protective. Not many people accepted anything other than gender-normativity especially in the hunting community. What was that statistic? Something like one in twelve of transgender people are likely to be assaulted? And by humans no less! Scary and disturbing as hell. At least Sam really does look like a guy. If it took him this long to find out and he's their uncle then Sam's at least safe walking down the street. What the hell is he talking about? They're hunters! They're never safe! Today was an example of that. If anything, this revelation changed nothing. Other than causing several things in the past to make more sense like John's differential treatment and Sam's privacy and lack of sexual exploits, there really was no difference. Dean was right. Sam was still Sam.

Bobby guzzled the rest of the beer, chucking the empty bottle into the recycle bin with the whiskey bottle.

"I'm gonna head back up to bed since you two chuckleheads disturbed my sleep. There are extra blankets and such in the closest. Just don't get any blood on my cushions." Bobby barked to Dean, who saluted him with his beer bottle knowing that the cushions were a lost cause already.

"Gotta get your beauty sleep, huh Bobby?" Dean smirked.

Bobby grumbled in indignation before trudging back upstairs. Goddammit, he had been having a good dream too. Something about Karen cooking an apple pie and Rufus telling him he couldn't work on the Sabbath. Never mind, any dream with Rufus in it couldn't have been a good one, that bastard. Maybe he should give him a call in the morning...which was in two hours. Balls.


End file.
